


Just Steve

by kaguya_yoru



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: A Little Cracktastic, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Minor Phil Coulson/Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 02:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaguya_yoru/pseuds/kaguya_yoru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A press conference is called for The Avengers following the events of the attack on Manhattan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Steve

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I've completed in this fandom and I've completely ignored all sense of canon time continuity in order to write this little ficlet. Enjoy!

One month after the attack on Manhattan, Fury called for a press conference. He claimed it was to bolster the faith of the people of New York in the Avengers, now that the alien carcasses had been cleared and the massive amounts of damage remained. New Yorkers were done with hailing the heroes that saved their lives and firmly focused on who they needed to call to get the rubble cleared and buildings fixed. Mostly he desperately wanted to stop fielding calls from Mayor Bloomberg because S.H.I.E.L.D. was not going to pay for the damages and that man was a bloodthirsty shark when he got a stupid ass idea into his head. (Yes, Fury was pissed that the 16 oz soda ban was still being debated in the courts.) He sent Agent Coulson to deliver the news because that was his job as S.H.I.E.L.D. liaison to the Avengers and he wanted to finish his Big Gulp in peace.

Coulson called ahead to let the Avengers know there was a mandatory meeting at 12 noon in the conference room of the Avengers Tower and was completely unsurprised to find no one there except Steve when he arrived five minutes prior.

“JARVIS, please inform the Avengers that there are coffee and doughnuts in the conference room,” Coulson requested politely. Steve’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

Five minutes later, all the Avengers were assembled and there wasn’t a single doughnut or coffee in sight.

“Hey!” Tony shouted on arrival. His hair looked exactly like Dr. Emmett Brown’s from _Back to the Future_ and he had a line of grease on one side of his face. “Are you taking lessons from Fury now? We don’t like lying liars who lie around here.”

Bruce frowned. “I thought you were taking a look at the schematics for a Hulk-proof cage? Why is there grease on your face?”

“There’s grease on my face?”

Coulson decided to intervene at that point. “Coffee and doughnuts will be provided at the end of the meeting.”

“Dick move, Coulson,” Tony said, already sipping a mug of coffee that he had somehow acquired in the last 30 seconds. Coulson decided not to comment further.

“Director Fury has called together a press conference.” There was a general rumble of discontent at Coulson’s words. “You will actually read the prepared statement this time, Tony,” Coulson said without looking at Tony’s mock glare of outrage, “and there may be a few questions from the reporters.”

“Clint and Natasha, you are still S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, so we would like you to keep a relatively low profile. Sunglasses on and answer as few questions as possible.” Clint and Natasha nodded in almost freaky unison.

“Dr. Banner.” Coulson turned to address him directly and Bruce ducked his head slightly. “You are likewise advised to answer as few questions as possible. The relationship between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the military is, shall we say, still strained over your inclusion into the Avengers and we’d like to not add any more fuel to that fire, if possible.” He gave a warm smile to Bruce and was gratified to receive a wry smile in return.

Coulson turned towards Tony. “Tony?”

Tony gave Coulson his best, hundred-watt smile crafted specifically for the paparazzi the moment before he said something completely ridiculous and largely unprintable.

Coulson sighed. “Try not to burn too many bridges.”

“You know I can’t make that promise,” Tony said with a sarcastic salute.

Coulson couldn’t deny that he had saved Steve for last; he still got a little thrill whenever he talked to his childhood hero and he hoped that he wouldn’t be interrupted by any of the others. He was therefore completely thrown when he had barely gotten a “Steve” out of his mouth before he was interrupted with an emphatic “No.”

Coulson resisted the urge to tilt his head to the side like a demented parrot. He couldn’t help repeating Steve, however. “No?”

“No,” Steve said firmly.

By this point, everyone was staring at Steve and his cheeks pinked slightly at the attention. “No, I am not doing the press conference,” he clarified.

Tony instantly chimed in with a “If he’s not doing it, then I’m not doing it,” and Coulson struggled to not strangle him. “Why is it that, Captain?” he asked, unconsciously falling back to his military training to maintain control.

“Yeah, besides me, you’re the one most experienced with this press conference gig anyway.” Tony had tilted his chair back on two legs and swung his legs up onto the conference table, clearly enjoying the show. “This should be old hat to you. Remember, I have all the newsreels.” He grinned shamelessly. “All of them.”

A muscle jumped in Steve’s jaw and Coulson tried not to react. That jawline made him instantly feel like a 15 year old discovering just how much of an effect Captain America’s tight suit had on him. The blush faded from Steve’s cheeks and he suddenly looked much older than his 21 natural years (give or take the almost 70 years he was trapped in ice).

“Before,” Steve said, complete with an extra jaw muscle jump. “Before, it was necessary. Americans needed to be distracted from their worry over their loved ones and their fears over the war coming to American soil. I was providing a service, even if it wasn’t the one I originally wanted.”

Steve laced his fingers together. “Despite Fury’s fears, there is no war. We are, for all intents and purposes, like The Doctor.”

Coulson was hanging onto every single one of Steve’s words up until this point - Steve had a very compelling public speaking voice whenever he cared to use it - but here, his brain stuttered. 

“Like Dr. Banner?” His voice came out more incredulous than he intended and he could see, out of the corner of his eye, Bruce attempting to blend into the wall like he did whenever he was nervous.

“No, no, no.” Steve waved one hand impatiently in the air. “Like The Doctor from Doctor Who.”

There was a brief pause during which Coulson employed all of his skills as a spy to not change facial expressions. Natasha was holding back a smile, there was a wry twist to Bruce’s lips, Clint was flat-out grinning, and the remaining two legs of Tony’s chair came down with a dull thud.

“Oh, please,” Tony breathed, sounding as if Christmas had come early this year. “Please do continue this analogy.”

Steve frowned slightly, but continued. “We are a response team,” his voice back in compelling public speaking mode. “The Avengers are here because there are threats that cannot be handled by the local police or even the military. Threats that, until a month ago, we haven’t even been able to imagine. Tony is right in that we are not soldiers, but we will certainly act when the threat comes to us.”

Steve took a deep breath and suddenly, he was just yet another 20-something year old New Yorker, albeit in rather old-fashioned clothes. “And until that time in which we are needed again, I would like to enjoy my life.” He smiled a crooked grin. “I’d rather like to go on an adventure.”

The amusement had been swept from the room and in its place hovered extreme awkwardness. Coulson cleared his throat, the sound overly loud in the suddenly quiet room. “You would be happy to know then that Director Fury agrees with you.”

He swept his gaze around the room. “As far as S.H.I.E.L.D. is concerned, the Avengers are on stand down. Live your lives. Director Fury is confident that the Avengers will respond when needed.”

The meeting adjourned shortly thereafter - well, after the aforementioned promised delivery of coffee and doughnuts - but Coulson lingered to have a few words with Steve. He was looking down at the city of New York, body unconsciously in parade rest and silhouetted perfectly by the midday sun as if he was a living ode to a comic book cover. Coulson stepped up to stand next to him.

“So much has changed,” Steve murmured after a moment. “I have changed. And I’ve been spending my time cooped up in a old gym.” He shook his head and then turned to look at Coulson.

“I just want to see it for myself, you know?” he asked and for a moment, Coulson thought it sounded as if Steve was asking for permission.

“Of course,” Coulson said warmly. And he did what he had been longing to do ever since he first saw Steve being chipped out of the ice; he reached up and gripped Steve’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. He felt all of the tension melt out of Steve’s shoulders at his touch and felt a moment of humble gratitude that he was able to impart some comfort to a man who was, after all was said and done, a war hero and veteran struggling with the loss of everything he had ever known.

“Go be a kid,” he said on a hunch and was rewarded with the biggest, most earnest smile he’d seen on Steve Roger’s face to date.

Coulson would never, under pain of torture, admit to the reaction he had when the next time he encountered Steve, it was to see him straddling a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Never.


End file.
